


Euphoria

by etherealmindss



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood Lust, Dark!Bonnie, F/M, Kind of anti-Damon, Klaus and Caroline exploration, Stefonnie, anti-Elena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealmindss/pseuds/etherealmindss
Summary: The last time Elena doesn’t choose Bonnie. And the first time Stefan does.





	1. Please Don’t Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> Song Inspiration: Find You by Ruelle

Bonnie stares into the eyes of her best friend, glossy brown and tear-stained cheeks, Elena drops the other girl's unwavering gaze under the weight of her own guilt.

Her and Stefan haven't spoken since she confessed her growing feelings for Damon. No one's heard from him in weeks. He's like a ghost, only talked about in passing from the few leads Damon had rounded up. The eldest Salvatore tried to track him down with a half-hearted effort but figured his little brother was just out licking his wounds. He figured Stefan would show his face when he could get over the transition of Elena's heart from himself to his older brother. Not even Caroline could reach him, her incessant calls becoming an everyday thing and his silence doing little to deter her. To Bonnie's surprise, she'd actually been the last one to see him. She hadn't mentioned the impromptu visit to anyone else in the group. She's not really sure why she never told anyone. Maybe it was her instinctive loyalty or sense of honor. But if she was being honest with herself, she was a little touched that he'd chosen her to be the last person he saw before he left Mystic Falls for good.

He'd shown up at her door the day before he disappeared in dark black boots and a trench coat, his forest green eyes deplorably sad with a somber smile and a cool-pressed kiss to her cheek.

She'd asked him why he'd came by to see her out of all people and the corner of his mouth twitched like he'd been harboring a secret, his dimpled cheek upturning only slightly, "I think I'm going to miss you the most, Bonnie."

Before she had time to ponder what that meant or ask him herself, he was gone. All he left behind was the remnants of his woodsy, petrichor scent lingering in the space he once filled.

She felt the shape of his lips on her skin the rest of the night.

Klaus is more jovial than usual, a manic smirk danced across his lips in a way that twisted his handsome face into something sinister, inhuman.

"Well Elena," He taunts, "Who will it be, your witchy best friend or the Salvatore?" He looks over at Damon who has blood spilling from his mouth, ashen skin pale and paper thin. "Who will you save?"

When the brunette doesn't say anything Klaus casts his wolfish eyes her way in a mocking manner, "Oh, the moral doppelganger. You're the compassionate one, am I correct? And here I thought I was being generous. This should be an easy choice. The man who killed your brother, tried to murder your friends, and has harassed and manipulated you since the moment he laid eyes on you or your best friend." He looks at Bonnie for a brief moment with the first real flash of emotion he's shown during his whole psychotic spectacle, pity. "My my, little witch. I apologize for my lack in judgement. I promise your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

Elena hiccups, shifting her gaze between the two before her eyes land on Damon. Letting out a shaky breath, her eyes run over Bonnie, her bottom lip quivers. She whispers half between a cry and a plea, "I can't lose him, Bonnie… I'm so sorry."

She continues to cry and the jade-eyed girl rolls her eyes at her theatrics. If these were her final moments, the last thing she was going to do was coddle Elena while she threw herself a pity party. Her emerald eyes cut into slits, honing in on the girl she'd known since birth, "If only your parents could see you now." She says nonchalantly, "Their perfect, subdued daughter. The marteyer. Deciding that my life isn't worth a moment of thought. It was so easy for you to choose him over me, Elena. I wouldn't be surprised if Grayson and Miranda were rolling around in their graves right now. Hell, maybe Jenna decided to join the death party." Bonnie smirks darkly at the way Elena's doe eyes widen in hurt, her reaction only fueling her further. She decides to rub salt in the wound upon seeing the brunette on the brink of a panic attack, "Oh, I forgot. You're the reason their dead, too." Bonnie cocks her head to the side eerily calm, "How does that feel, knowing that you're the catalyst for every bad thing that's ever happened to all the people that you claim to love?"

Klaus watches on with fascination.

Elena's body is wracked with sobs but she could care less. She isn't crying for her. She's sure Damon will comfort her later when he fucks the sadness out of her. And that's all it would really take anyway for Elena to forget, for Damon to convince her that she didn't have a choice. That it's okay to forgive herself for signing her best friend over to her death. And for what, lousy sex with a predator?

Bonnie will never forget waking up to Caroline crying in her bed at one of their sleepovers not long after the Salvatore's had came into town. It had been just the two of them and Care had divulged some of the explicit nightmares that flashed behind her eyes whenever she tried to sleep. Bonnie held her while she cried and Damon woke up in a ditch the next morning. It was the closest she'd ever came to killing someone.

A single tear rolls down the witch's cheek when she realizes that this is it, she's really dying this time. She never got to say goodbye to her dad or Abby, Caroline and Matt, not even Stefan, not really. At the thought, anger pulses through her veins, white hot and electric. She dies and Damon Salvatore gets to live. The universe has a fickle way of making it's choices. Who knew Elena's own fickle heart would be her undoing. But in reality, what else has her former best friend ever represented other than death, suffering, and pain?

Her mother left her because of Elena. The Salvatores infested this town because of Elena. Her Grams is dead because of Elena. Why must she cease to exist in the name of Elena, why does she get to play God?

"It's time, little witch."

Bonnie is manhandled by one of Klaus' hybrids, positioned in the middle of a symbolic field of candles, salt, and sage. Elena doesn't even have the decency to look at her, melting into Damon's arms for comfort after one of the other hybrids dropped him at her feet.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Bonnie." Klaus' british lilt brushes against her ear.

She keeps her composure, refusing to break in front of him. She stiffly nods her head and grabs his wrist yanking him forward, figuring she has nothing else to lose. She leans in and he lets her pull him in, "Promise me you won't hurt Caroline."

His face seems to soften slightly at the mention of her blonde friend's name. His stoic expression lost some of it's malice, his eyes almost a bit more human, "She's not Elena, no doubt she will hate me forever after this is all said and done." He leans in further so that only she can hear, "But I'd never hurt Caroline, you have my word."

With a solemn tightening of her lips, she gives him a look to precede. There was nothing she could really do at this point. Her magic was binded by the witch helping Klaus and no one was coming to save her. Damon looked pointedly at her with what appeared to be a semblance of respect. She flipped him the bird.

One of Klaus' personal witches began chanting in an ancient language that not even she seems to recognize from any of her grimoires. With the timing damn near perfect, the moon aligned with her spot in the field and illuminated her gilded, mocha skin. As the chanting persisted, her head began to throb with the intensity of an aneurysm and the duration of a lifetime. Her eyes began to bleed, more blood followed as it leaked from every orifice of her body: her pores, ears, and mouth. She choked violently, her body tortured by phantom touches under the moon's celestial power. She screams, her teeth blood-tinged and her throat raw like razor blades. In that moment when she knows death is here for her, she sees a blurry shadow of a man near the treeline and the next second he's toppled over her, shielding her from the moon's harmful luminescence underneath the protective shade some neighboring trees provided.

Dark green eyes bore into her own as she stares back with the lucidness of a dream and a wayward hit to her crooked heart.

"Stefan?"


	2. Will you Still Mean It In The Morning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: Motion Picture Soundtrack by Radiohead

His breath becomes her breath, intermingling in a way that makes it noticeable how close they are. Stefan reached out and wiped the scarlet blood off the corner of her mouth with a swipe of this thumb, sticking it between his lips with a suppressed growl as he sucks it off.

Black, tendril-like veins swim beneath his eyes and Bonnie suppresses a shudder, whether from fear or, something else, she can't quite put her finger on. He smiles at her with his monster just underneath the surface, yet his eyes are soft and disarmingly green. Rings of gold and onyx dance around the edges of the green like halos, Stefan exuding the rugged exterior of a fallen angel dripping head to toe in black. In a way, he was her anti-hero.

Bonnie catches herself thinking how it should be a crime to be that beguiling, that devilishly handsome. She'd always knew Stefan was an attractive guy, it was like science. But something's different in the way he carries himself now, the way his presence demands attention, almost primal. The quietness and enigmatic energy that caters to his form like an invisible suit makes his intentions an anomaly.

His muscles flex in the henley he's wearing that fits him like a second skin, pulling her close, "I'm getting you out of here, Bon." He murmurs quietly against her ear for only her to hear. He peers through the fog and catches eyes with Elena who's looking over at them curiously.

"Stefan" Elena calls softly in her damsel voice, eyelashes fluttering around her big, innocent brown eyes when she sees him, like a siren luring in her sailor.

Bonnie bites her tongue in an effort to stop herself from verbally voicing her true to nature observation.

Stefan growls warningly at her with teeth bared, "You sacrificed Bonnie- what the hell is the matter with you. I'm gone for a month and you're betraying your friends, protecting Damon? Are you really that far gone, Elena- I don't even recognize who you are anymore."

Bonnie didn't realize how much respect she commanded over Stefan. He was here in front of her, facing against his brother and the love of his life. For her. She wracked her brain for a single instance where she warranted that honor from him?

"Stefan- I," Elena cries exasperated, trying to find the words to explain but falls short when Stefan cuts her off.

Hard-browed and intimidatingly calm one moment, then the next his composure snaps. He silences her, "I heard you, Elena. I heard you." His hands ran through his already tousled hair as if he was jonesing for something, either a drug or very much make something out of his power come to fruition."You can't talk your way out of this, not this time." He snarls when Damon stands up with lackluster bravado and puts his body between him and the doppelganger, as if she needs protection from the younger Salvatore. Stefan chuckles somberly at the display and the way Elena seems pleased at Damon coming to her aid, "You're just a shadow of the girl I fell in love with. I lost you a long time ago, there's nothing left to mourn. So before you go making assumptions, you're not why I'm here." He shakes his head to drive away the notion that it was even a possibility anymore. "I have enough sense not to chase after a shell of you."

Elena stares back, hurt, with more tears welling in her eyes with hope that he wouldn't ever treat her this way. Not her of all people, not after all they've been through. "You don't mean that, Stefan."

"That's where you're wrong. We didn't fall for every part of each other, Elena. We fell for the broken parts." He almosts looks sad but it fades. "That was hard for me to accept for a while after I left. I had to write it down in my journal, get it all out in the open, tear myself apart and throw my bleeding heart on those pages. I had to make sure it really happened and that I wasn't drowning in pseudo-memories. That you had really loved me once, that it hadn't been a dream. But I've learned, different eyes see different things. And now, I'm free." He felt even more pardoned as he said it aloud.

He looks at Damon, "You finally got the girl, brother."

They stare hard at each other.

"I sincerely hope she continues to pour all of herself into you and fill you up when you need it. Because if she does that, then I don't have to."

He turns to look at Bonnie who's freely bleeding, staining the grass red. The bleeding seems to be clotting a little but Stefan takes off his coat anyways, covering her and pressing the warm, wool fabric into the deeper areas of bleeding. He scoops her up and nestles her protectively into his side, his body shielding her from prying eyes. He faces Elena again who can't stop looking between him and Bonnie with sheer confusion on her face and tears leaking from her puffy, red cheeks.

It was almost funny.

Stefan glowered at her, "Don't cry, Elena. You're not the victim, here."

The brunette cowers at his words, her angelic, broken voice slipping through the space between them hoping to make him understand, "I saved your brother, Stefan. I did that for you. Because as much as you may hate me for feeling something for him, I still care about you. And I know you still care about him."

Stefan chuckles darkly behind his lethal, angular visage, "Caring about Damon is your problem now." He deadpans, just now noticing Klaus who looks amused at the whole exchange. "And I don't hate you, that would require me giving a damn about what you think of me anymore. It's simple, you just don't know what I look like when I'm not in love with you."

She flinches violently as if he'd slapped her. Her bottom lip trembles and she drops his eyes. Damon reaches for her but she shies away, succumbing into herself while using her hair as a curtain.

Damon internalizes the fact that she doesn't want to feel his touch or seek his comfort and the part that wants what's best for his brother sympathizes with that insecurity. He had been there for far too long.

Bonnie, flustered and intoxicated by the pain that envelopes her body, melts into Stefan's arms in an act of exhaustion. Her fingers clench around his shirt, feeling the hum of power rushing through her like a lightning storm racing down her spine. Silvery, opalescent veins are visible through her skin. She turns her arm over in awe as the silver ravishes her arm, crawling up her body, resembling the path of a shoot-up drug running its course. The magic reverberates off her bones.

Klaus stares in awe, using this moment to intervene. Stefan holds his ground but Bonnie squeezes his hand and nods when he turns to look at her. "Let him" She whispers tiredly. Her muscles ache and her skin is drenched in sweat. Klaus kneels down to her level and strokes her wavy brown hair and presses the back of his hand against her clammy forehead, "You did well, Bonnie." He says politely, "Looking a bit under the weather, understandably, but I'm sure the Salvatore with the hero hair will fix you right up, won't you Stefan?" He goads, pretending not to notice Elena eavesdropping.

"What the hell is going on?" Elena interjects, hating not being in the know about everything. "He just tried to kill you, Bonnie."

The witch's jaw clenches at the sight of the brunette and her hypocrisy, the silvery veins that decorated her skin now free flowing underneath her eyes, much like how Stefan's were before. Klaus chooses his words carefully, not wanting to let the bore of a girl know too much about his dealings with the Bennett witch. "Actually Elena, Bonnie and I had an arrangement in place. I recruited her to dabble in some old magic my brother Kol and I have been researching for over hundreds of years, hence the new silver markings she's exhibiting. I thought she'd be the perfect candidate, excluding those pesky, little morals of hers, of course. I thought she needed to know how to protect herself. She didn't agree, so we made a little wagger to help her see my point of view. I'd kidnap her and Damon and leave it up to you to decide who got to live. If her own best friend wouldn't pick her over someone as deplorable as Damon, then she really was in some trouble and would need to be able to save herself."

Elena covers her mouth to hide a silent sob, shocked and guilty as the news hits her ears.

Bonnie looks on, unapologetically and unmoved.

Klaus smirks at the doppelganger's evident discomfort, "So between us girls- I was never going to harm the lovely Bonnie. There was no sacrifice, the moon ritual, erm, awakened a newfound, long-buried part of our friendly neighborhood witch. Testing your loyalty was just for-how do you kids say- shits and giggles." He glances over at a fuming Bonnie, "Well, maybe not for all parties involved, but eh, semantics."

Elena turns her angry eyes on him, "And if I had chose Bonnie, what would of happened to Damon?"

"Collateral damage," Klaus grins, "I think I'd be doing everyone a favor. Plus, he is my least favorite Salvatore." He retorts, putting a hand on Stefan's shoulder and giving it a good shake, causing Stefan to grimace.

"Bonnie, you knew about this?" Stefan questions, his irritation evident to a point where he seems almost angry with her. "That ritual could of killed you." His eyes darkening as he growls quietly under his breath, his voice raising as the realization sets in.

"I can always count on you to state the obvious, Stefan." Bonnie replies flippantly, not particularly caring that he's upset with her. Stefan giving a damn about her is kind of new territory, and she's not exactly sure how to proceed, however, proceeding -with-caution seems like a good way to go. She side-eyes Elena, "To be honest, I didn't think it would get that far, anyways." She snarks with an unlady-like furl of her lip, "But now I know that no one would exactly give a shit if I was dead. I guess it would be just like any other Tuesday."

"I would," Klaus intercedes with an animated smile, "I'm in need of a trusted ally."

"You just want to get in good with Blondie and need a gateway to do it since your charmingly psychotic personality doesn't seem to have her pink panties dropping anytime soon." Damon snaps wittily with a snicker.

Klaus looks at him hotly, "You know Damon, it usually does take some effort to bed a woman when you're not relying solely on compulsion to sedate her free will." He says with a sardonic grin, "I prefer my women with a little fight in them, no need to dull their spirit, eh mate?" He says, snapping his neck before anyone can blink.

Elena shrieks and falls to Damon's feet, glaring at the Original with undeterred hate. Klaus suppresses an eyeroll, "Take him home before I contemplate actually taking his life." He suggests, aiming his statement to Elena, with an authority that makes it clear that it's not a request.

The brunette holds back for a second once she gets all of Damon's weight balanced on one of her shoulders. She looks over at her former boyfriend, "Come home, Stefan… when you're ready."

He looks at her, emotionless, "I don't have a home."

Bonnie feels the words reverberate through her whole body. Truer words couldn't have been said in that moment.

 

 

Something about straddling Stefan's motorcycle made Bonnie feel womanly and powerful. The vibrations made her thighs shake, the purr of the engine touching her in places she hadn't explored in a while. Stefan's back muscles flex deliciously against his shirt. Her chest is pressed against him and she's pretty sure he can feel her nipples rubbing embarrassingly against him though the thin, wet fabric of her shirt saturated in blood.

The seat buzzes expectantly against Bonnie in just the right spot, causing her to let out a small moan. Stefan's hands tighten noticeably around the handlebars and he grits out without taking his eyes off the road, "You're going to have to cut that shit out, Bon. I can smell you everywhere." He bites his lip to hold back a groan, slicing the skin there hard enough to draw blood, "If you can't tell, I'm not the poster boy of control."

"With blood?" She clarifies because if it were anything else she'd have to wonder about his intentions.

She hears him chuckle through the sounds of the wind zipping through her hair, "Among other things." He coughs to clear the huskiness in his voice, "You're a beautiful woman, Bonnie. Surely it can't be that hard to understand that I'm attracted to you, carnally." He smirks, "Intellect and innocence are intriguing qualities as well, which you have in spades." He speaks, matter-of-fact.

She scoffs audibly, "Isn't that why you went for Elena?" She tries to mull over the fact that he used carnal and attraction in the same sentence in reference to her with ease.

He shrugs, "She had things going for her, a lot of it having to do with my curiosity in relation to Katherine at first. Don't get me wrong, it was more than that. It was love- at the time. I could relate to her sadness. Maybe there's still an echo of it there. Or maybe I'm delusional and fooling myself into think I'm over her." The sadness that returned for those few moments was fleeting- leaving slowly, then all at once. "Either way, it doesn't really matter. She's not why I'm back."

"Should I be concerned- why you're back, I mean."

"You're a smart girl, Bonnie. It's not wise of you to trust vampires. You should know that better than anyone after what happened to your Grams, it didn't exactly work out as planned. There's always a reason to be cautious."

Did she note a hint of guilt because of what happened with Grams? It wouldn't surprise her. Stefan was the eternally guilty brother. Until today.

Despite that, the weight of him mentioning Grams caused her to swallow the lump in her throat when she heard her name and fixed a reckless smile in its place refusing to let his words affect her, "I think I could take you, especially on that bunny diet of yours that Damon likes to antagonize you about."

He's silent for a moment. The only sound is her heart beating and their breathing. She thinks she might of gone too far mentioning Damon, but his following response puts those thoughts to rest.

"My appetite has- shifted, as of recently. I was seeking you out to help me with that, actually. You're why I'm here, Bonnie."

That one throws her for a loop. "What's your poison of choice?"

She can hear the edge in his voice, "Witch blood."

 

 

After Bonnie recovers from the initial shock of Stefan's words, they pulled up to her house. Rudy Bennett was gone on business for work, so she wasn't worried about having to sneak Stefan in.

"So you're telling me that some blast from the past got you addicted to witch blood? Is it for erotic purposes, or…" She says playfully with a hint of suggestiveness.

He was glad she didn't pry too much into his so called "blast from the past."

Stefan chokes on a laugh but covers it easily, "I wasn't going to say it like that, but yeah, it can be." He admits, hiding his grin at her naked curiosity. "It's just different, witches have this inexplicable taste that no other supernatural creature or even humans possess. It was a fail safe that the original witches put in place in case of an attack. They made their blood sweet and savory, indescribably so that if a vampire were to attack, it was their way of drawing them in before they killed them. Your blood is like- wine, to a vampire."

Bonnie unlocks her door and turns to face Stefan who stands respectfully outside.

"I've been invited in before." He states, "But I won't come in until you wish me to, I promise. I want you to feel safe with me, I don't have any intention of hurting you, Bonnie. That's not why I'm here, that's not why I saved you."

"What are you getting out of this, Stefan? There has to be a reason you're still here talking to me, wanting to reminisce. If you're seeking redemption or forgiveness, you don't need to. I forgave you a long time ago for what happened to Grams. It wasn't your fault, not really. Damon, however-" She lets the sentence drop before she gets too angry, wringing her hands, begging them to stay steady.

He hooks a finger underneath her chin and forces her to look at him, freeing her from her internal musing, "Maybe I missed a lot of opportunities I had before to talk to you. To get to know you. I just- I know that you're someone worth knowing." Running his hand over the back of his neck, it's his turn to feel vulnerable, "I'm here for you as long as you'll have me. And in return, I think being around you more will help me learn control over my cravings. I figure it will be easier to resist if the walking blood bag is someone who I actually care about." He shrugs with a little smile to show that he's teasing.

Bonnie reflects over how long she's known Stefan, trying to remember a time when she truly felt like she mattered to him before now.

"I used to see the way you protected Elena, found myself wondering what it must feel like to be cared about by someone like Stefan Salvatore." She chuckles, moving a piece of hair behind her ear before she turns serious, " But I'm not Elena, Stefan. I'll help you with your blood lust, but I won't make excuses for your actions. If you hurt someone, we'll deal with it together. But if you cross the line, I'll have no choice but to take you out." She says confidently without an ounce of fear, though her uncertainty weighs heavy on her mind.

Stefan finds himself liking this fearless, unfiltered Bonnie. He wonders how things would be if she'd stood up for herself more in the past, leading him to feel even more guilty. He could of defended her against Elena's poorly-executed 'Hail Mary's' or Damon's mission impossibles, but he never did. He wanted to, but he was a man in love then. He supposed only love made people that crazy.

Bonnie takes a step back, undoing her arms crossed over her chest. Her guard, slowly, was coming down. But only so much, she'd only give Stefan an inch until he proved he was worthy of her trust, "Come in."

Their eyes trip over each other clumsily but the moment was there just before he takes steps closer to her.

He steps over the threshold and really takes a look at her, "We should probably get you cleaned up, Bon. You look like you just stepped out of a horror movie." He sniffs, closing his eyes before the black veins appear underneath them. It was easier before when he wasn't focused on the blood rushing in her veins or the beating of her heart. When he wasn't surrounded by her scent and her belongings and her aura so singularly.

She stumbles over her next words, "It's okay, Stef, I can take care of it. It will only take me a few minutes, just make yourself at home."

Bonnie turns to head upstairs to her bathroom but Stefan catches her wrist in a soft, yet firm grip before she could get too far. The subtle glances between them seem to get more frequent the closer they get but Bonnie breaks eye contact, looking anywhere but those surreal, green eyes.

His gaze is earnest and hopeful, "Friendship 101: Trust. I know it doesn't come easily to you, understandably, but just try. Let me help you, Bon, I want to do this."

She sighs, her eyes followed his thumb making small circles on the back of her wrist that's still in his grasp. She looks up at him like the world is on her shoulders, like it has been for a very long time. She squeezes her eyes shut then relaxed them, giving up control. "What do you know about stitching people up anyways, Salvatore?"

He grins wryly, "I went to medical school…. twice. And I was a paramedic back in the 80's. I know a thing or two." He continued cheekily, "I promise I'll be gentle."

"I don't break easily."

Her eyebrows shot up when she realized what she said and how it came out. Stefan looked at her hotly with a heavy-set gaze beneath his own brooding eyebrows. She doesn't even want to know what he's thinking.

She coughs awkwardly, "The bathroom is this way." She says really quietly, walking fast up the stairs to get some much needed distance from the vampire.

They make it to the bathroom and Bonnie perches herself on the sink. Stefan, saving her from further embarrassment, gathers the supplies he'll need to patch her up without a word, giving her time to think. He comes back, towering over her petite height with some towels, alcohol, cotton swabs, bandages, and some scissors. He soaks the swab in the alcohol and begins cleaning her cuts.

Bonnie flinches at the pain but doesn't say anything. The moment is quiet, easy. No words are needed to fill the silence, it was nice being in his presence. The overhung sepia lights cast Stefan in a gilded glow as she watches him work efficiently but with some effort as he takes small breaks to breath in and out. His nostrils flare at one point, his green eyes shifting to an unfathomable onyx. Just when Bonnie thinks it may be too much for him, he presses the bandage to her arm, securing it tightly enough that it applies the right amount of pressure then relinquishes his hold on her.

Bonnie didn't realize that she was holding her breath until he lets her go, yet she finds that she misses the warmth of his hand steadying her in place.

Her blood coats his hands and Bonnie can see the internal struggle race across his face. Eyes wide and flustered, staring intently at his palms, his tongue peaks out the corner of his mouth eyeing the bloody digits before he snaps out of his stupor and wipes his hands on a clean, fluffy white towel.

He feels her eyes on him and he raises his to meet hers. He looks up too fast and they accidentally bump noses. They both chuckle, lost in the moment until the weight of it feels too heavy, intimacy neither has ever experienced with each other before feeling like a suffocating presence in the cramped, half-bathroom. Their eyes meet shyly once more before they focus on other things in the room. Bonnie on the ugly brown shower curtain and Stefan on a small spider web in the corner of the ceiling that most likely only he could see.

"Bonnie, I can literally taste the question hanging off your tongue. You have something you want to ask, so ask. I'm not going to hide anything from you or lie to you."

She waits a second before pushing the question off her chest that'd been on her mind since the ride home, "Why didn't you pick Elena?"

He didn't miss a beat, "Because I picked you, Bonnie." He says teasingly with a cute little half smile.

"That's not it," She denies readily, waiting for the real answer. Her eyes bore into the side of his head as he grabs something off the counter.

He sighs, finally facing her with his back against the wall, "What do you want to hear? That I'm tired of picking Elena?"

"I want an honest answer, Stefan. You owe me that."

"Fine," He huffs. "No one ever picks you. I saw that from the moment I met you. And even then I wanted to pick you. I just hadn't figured out for what." His lips tighten in a line which is her clue that it's all she was going to get out of him in the moment. He distracts himself by cleaning up the blood and utensils from the sink.

She is afraid to ask him if he's figured it out yet. Maybe she'd save it for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my friend Deniqua for helping edit this chapter, love ya!


	3. Paint the Night Sky Bloody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: Just a Game By Birdy

Stefan holes himself away in the cabin he'd built on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. The rain thumps heavy against the asphalt outside, splattering the windows, coating the forest green leaves of the trees in a dewy glow. He peers outside the window, memorizing the iridescent rain drops and smells that bleed through the glass and wood and foundation of the little old house tucked away from society.

A grim frown tugs at Stefan's lips.

Loneliness is not for the faint-hearted. Stefan never saw himself as such. Soft-spoken, possibly. Cynical to a fault, maybe. Guilty by nature, absolutely. Time has eased his transition from skin to brimstone and sunken bones to vibranium. He carries his violent nature like a dark cloud hovering above him. Like the way it hangs outside his window, muddling his thoughts. He thinks that if rain were blood, he'd dance in it. The dirt outside, his dance floor.

He thinks of Bonnie, his sacrificial lamb. And himself, the masochistic lion.

Thank Elena's twilight obsession during the beginning of their relationship for that lackluster metaphor.

Corpses lay at his feet like dead rose petals. Blood paints the tiled gravel in rusted sienna, globs of brain and skin and life littering the floor. Green eyes stare back from where he stands, barren and glassy. Not hers, but someone's.

The sweet tanginess of the collection of witch's blood lays against Stefan's tongue as he gorges on the stickiness that coats his fingers. His blast from the past had come through, delivering as promised. The blood had sung to him when he sensed the latest elusive witch on his doorstep, the one of four that had come stumbling upon his stowaway. Her honeysuckle perfume elicited a groan from him that'd crawled up his throat just before answering the door for the last time of the evening.

The last girl. Antoinette. A beautiful name for a beautiful face.

A beautiful face that now lays across his floorboard in mutilated, fleshy pieces, much like the rest of them.

Stefan thinks that he may have gone too far this time. That he's too far gone this time. Bonnie and Elena's faces circle through his mind like unravelling film, his head begins to swim in his guilt. Thinking of Elena was always a precursor to his harboring guilt, in ways, feeling like he was the reason behind her fate. Him coming to Mystic Falls, befriending her, loving her. But he thinks about all that getting caught up in Elena's storm had cost him, as well. Not only did he lose her, but ultimately, he lost himself. And that's far worse than what losing her could ever feel like. He wonders what she would think of him right now, blood-stained teeth, sitting on his throne of decapitated bodies. Would she cower in fear, or would she tell him not to hide from her like she had the first time?

Bonnie is the sweet disposition that reminds him that he's a work in progress. This part of himself is transient, not stagnant. He can be better, he can be good to someone. He can care for someone, something. But it doesn't have to be chaotic and untimely and volatile. Being apart of something with someone can feel like brushing the shore of something happier, not always flirting at the edge of a cliff. But in thinking that, he also fears investing in another person, relying on someone for emotional and mental stability. But with Bonnie, he doesn't think it would be like that. They complement each other. Stefan hopes she'll be able to forgive him for this. She's barely loosened her reigns long enough to entertain a friendship with him. But that little bit of slack she's given may be the tough love Stefan is needing. He wants to know her, god does he want to, but does he deserve to- Can he be unselfish with her?

The guilt always come right after the haze. The feeling of safeness he gets thinking of Bonnie doesn't come quite as quickly as he'd hoped. The blood high still faintly lingers, it seduces... intoxicates, smoke and mirrors like heavy clouds behind his eyes.

Eventually Elena disappears from his broken psyche and all he sees is Bonnie.

"Bonnie," He murmurs to the empty space. He looks down at his phone, flipping between contacts. His finger stops as he comes upon her name against the lit screen. He sighs, continuing to scroll until he comes to another name. He presses it. The dial tone rings for a moment until the familiar british lilt comes through the speaker.

"Klaus," He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to stop himself from disintegrating the phone in his steel grip, "I need your help."

"Rippppah," Klaus drawls in a sing-song voice, "I had a strange inkling I'd be hearing from you again soon."

Bonnie and Caroline take a seat at the Mystic Grill.

"A moon ritual, Bonnie. Are you fucking kidding me? You trusted Klaus, of all people, to keep you safe?"

Bonnie arches a calculated brow in the Blonde's direction, "Lets not pretend like you haven't entertained the idea before, Caroline." The other girl shrinks at her words but Bonnie lets her voice soften, "I have eyes. I know you feel something for him, Care. It's okay to want something for yourself."

Caroline goes quiet in her seat. She thinks about how bad Klaus is for her. She thinks on all the people he's killed. All the lives he's ruined.

"Klaus is bad for me," She repeats in her head like a mantra and a prayer, something to give her strength against those hopeful eyes he seems to carry around her. A sentiment she's kept in the back of her mind since he saved her, tempting her with visions of life and beauty on the closing of her birthday all those months ago. "Klaus is bad for me," She repeats again, but this time with a little less feeling and with a lot more defeat. Caroline starts to think that maybe for her, Klaus is bad with a purpose. And just maybe, some of his wayward charm has befallen on her crooked, battered heart.

Elena and Damon choose that moment to waltz into the grill, taking a spot in the corner near the pool tables. They sit down like the picturesque couple they pretend to be, Elena leaning into Damon's side and him looking on her with nothing short of triumph and adoration.

Caroline narrows her eyes at the couple, "I think she'd have something to say about it." Her eyes hold a bit of edge thinking of what the brunette had done to Bonnie in the name of saving Damon, "What does she see in him, anyway?"

Bonnie follows her line of sight with a sneer, "Elena can go to Hell, Caroline." She says tightly, trying and failing to hide the disdain in her voice. "We're not side characters in her story, she doesn't get to control every aspect of our lives." She averts her eyes from her former best friend and lays her hand on top of her Caroline's, "Especially when it comes to who we feel drawn to, she doesn't get a say in that. She's not as innocent as she likes to come off." She drags, her gaze zeroing in on Damon.

The blonde nods mutely giving Bonnie a look of appreciation, "I'm glad you've finally come into your own, Bon." Her dimpled smile feels genuine, "I'll never forgive her, you know." She says offhandedly, a faraway look in her eye as she glances over at the couple again, as if all other people in the small establishment had disappeared. Caroline's eyes bleed black barely concealing the spider-like veins under her eyes, "If she comes near you again, I'll snap her skinny little neck myself."

Bonnie rushes to assure her, "You don't mean that, Care. She's one of your best friends too and I'm not asking you to pick sides-" She starts but is cut off by Caroline's hard stare.

"I guess it's a good thing I wasn't asking for your approval." She speaks lowly, snapping her head back to the doppleganger. Her voice feels light and airy in a way that seems lost and sad, "I'm not losing you, Bon." She says seriously, gravely, showing Bonnie that she'd make good on her threat if Elena crossed the line.

Bonnie decided to leave it at that, but a small part of her heart swelled at the thought of Caroline choosing her.

Elena seems to notice their presence, her mouth forming a little 'o' as her feet scratch the surface of the floor, her hesitation to come over evident. The wrinkles in her forehead stress against the skin there, her big brown eyes looking at Bonnie searchingly.

Bonnie stares back, emotionally unavailable.

Something shifts in the air, like the clicking of atoms colliding together. It's almost magnetic, the pull Bonnie feels, tempting her gaze to turn towards the front of the building.

Bonnie finally gives in and looks to the source of the pressure change.

Stefan walks through the door of the Mystic Grill, disarming handsome and devilish as ever.

His eyes find hers under the heat of the dingy lights that set the room in a tempered hue. His thighs exude power as he moves, each step closer to her, though it feels like an eternity before his shaded eyes greet her as he takes a seat in the squeaky chair between her and Caroline. Bonnie hadn't told Caroline everything that had transpired last night between herself and Stefan. She'd left out the playful banter, the stolen looks, and the awkward dancing around each other's personal space.

She definitely didn't mention the nose bump.

"Caroline," He acknowledges her politely with a warm smile before he turns. His eyes rake over the witch's form with a hellish gleam to his earthy green eyes. His lips curl into a grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth, "Bonnie." He drawls, "Your injuries seem to be healing, beautifully." He observes with a rueful smile.

Their gazes lock in a power struggle, neither willing to submit to the other. This is the Bonnie that Stefan has been waiting to meet. Scorned and hellbent, a ravaged storm just underneath the surface of her finger tips. Their stare off is cut short when Bonnie flicks her eyes down to a small red stain on the white collar of his shirt. She looks at him disapprovingly but he deflects the questions he can already see buzzing around her head as the wheels and cogs begin to turn and connect two and two together.

Elena looks over curiously at the pair trying to map out where Bonnie and Stefan's connection began and end, Damon unable to hold her attention from the moment Stefan stepped into the restaurant.

The older Salvatore deflates at her shift in frequency, every fiber of his newly girlfriend's being focused in on his brother. His insecurity swelters and his jaw ticks in obvious irritation, a small amount of residual resentment for Stefan leaking out of him like a cracked egg yolk. As much as he loves his brother, he loves Elena, too. If not more. Damon is a creature of habit, selfish, impulsive behavior becoming an integrated part of who he is with hundreds of years of baggage and rejection threatening to swallow him. He grabs Elena's hand as a lifeline, something to steady him and ground him to the place he sits. He never really considered who he is without being connected to Elena Gilbert. Part of him is too terrified to ever find out.

Bonnie holds eye contact with the vampire next to her, a bite to her bottom lip, "What are you doing here, Stefan?"

His tongue peeks out to swipe over his lip. Her eyes follow the trail over his cupid's bow until she realizes what she's doing and flushes a deep pink. The sinful narrowing of his eyes tells her that he's hardly innocent and knew exactly what he was doing.

Caroline looks on with unparalleled interest.

He smiles charmingly, "I wanted to see you," He says simply like it's the most normal thing in the world. Bonnie had started to think that maybe last night was a dream. Maybe Stefan had never really been there at all. That this is all a simulation or her own personal Hell. But here he is, Stefan Salvatore, making personal visits to check in on her. The thought sends a delicious tingle down her spine.

Caroline puts her arm on his shoulder and pulls him into a tight hug, "It's good to see you, Stefan, I'm glad you're home."

Bonnie's mind wanders back to when he said that he didn't have a home.

His smile is scripted and doesn't quite reach his eyes, "It's good to be back, Care."

He can feel Bonnie's gaze boring into his skull. He's come to like the burn.

Padded footsteps can be heard approaching their table, "Caroline, Stefan…. Bonnie," The brunette falters on her name, her voice shaky at best, "I, uh- Damon and I are over by the pool tables. I saw Stefan come in and come sit with you guys. I wanted to come over and-"

"You wanted to what, Elena?" Bonnie inquires, catching the attention of a few other patrons, "Reminisce over the last day where you gave me over to Klaus like a pig for the slaughter?" She continues with a serene mask of cool indifference, "Or were you coming over just to see if Stefan was lying about not being in love with you anymore?" She leans on the edge of petty, seeing Elena's eyes riddled with lost love and broken promises as she looks at an unrelenting Stefan. Bonnie shifts her gaze over to the other Salvatore watching closely from their table, assuming Elena asked him not to accompany her in her little lapse in brain cells, coming over to their table like she didn't just sacrifice her for some limp dick not even twenty-four hours ago.

Bonnie almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

She balks at the other girl's hurt expression. She wrinkles her nose, "What does Damon think of you still pining after his brother?" She pushes, genuinely curious of what her answer will be.

Stefan sits quietly, letting Bonnie speak her mind.

He watches the green-eyed witch dismantle Elena, picking her apart, with gravity and truth lining each word that leaves her mouth. And strangely, he feels proud of her. Appreciative, even. He likes the thought of Bonnie standing up for him, being protective over him. The urge to protect Elena, to come to her defense- is nonexistent. It's humbling, almost. Refreshing to feel like he finally has some control over his emotions.

Elena runs her fingers through her hair timidly, "I just- I wanted to mend this, us." She says, motioning between the two of them, choosing not to answer the other girl's grueling line of questioning.

Noted.

"I know that you're hurt, Bonnie. But I didn't have a choice- there was no good choice. Either way, I was going to lose someone I love." She tries to negotiate, grasping for any sense of validation that would make her not seem like the shitty friend she's already proved herself to be. "I- I knew you'd be okay. You'd have your Grams-"

Bonnie's eyes flash silver, "You don't get to speak her name."

Elena fumbles over an apology, her eyes wide and child-like, "I'm sorry… that was really insensitive of me."

"Damn right." Caroline pipes in, fixing her with a steely glare that's uncharacteristic of the usual sunshine, bubbly blonde.

Bonnie can feel Stefan mentally reaching out to her until she feels the physical security of his hand slipping quietly into hers underneath the table and giving her a squeeze, running his thumb over her knuckles soothingly. She appreciates that while Stefan would probably like to defend himself, speak his thoughts on the matter, he lets her do her thing. He trusts her, and respects her enough not to interfere. He lets her take care of herself, doesn't run to her defense like she needs saving. He knows this is exactly what she needs to feel better, in time. And he lets her feel it, while also being there for her in the only way he can at the freshness of their fragile friendship in this moment while being mindful of her desire to handle Elena on her own.

Bonnie leans forward, her palms pressed against the table, "There's always a choice, Elena. You just chose the one more convenient for you." She states, eyes downcast before meeting the brunette's again with rage brewing through her silver veins, "I've let you abuse your power over me for a long time. Let you wear down your welcome with my friendship. Let you play on my loyalty to you." She begins, and Elena is already getting choked up and teary eyed, "Abuse is abuse, Elena. Your justifications are falling on deaf ears. All explanations and reasoning you try to come up with the pardon yourself of your own guilt are excuses. And all excuses do is promote the cycle of abuse to continue." She relays with conviction in her tone, "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you. Just get the hell out of my life so I can get on with mine."

Elena mumbles a watery plea, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Bonnie."

"No you didn't," Bonnie's voice softens to a whisper, "You just meant for me to die."

Bonnie needed to take a beat. She'd left the Grill in a ball of aggression and hurt. As much as she likes to appear unaffected by Elena's betrayal, the sting of it still presses deep against her rib cage, bruising her heart when she thinks about how far away she's drifted from her old friend, how disjointed they've become.

Her cell phone rings in her pocket just as she gets to her car in the parking lot. An unknown number flashes across the screen.

"Hello, who is this?" She says cautiously into the receiver. Unexpected calls are never a good sign.

"Bon, it's Stefan," The warm, silky voice relays through the phone, "I didn't get a chance to talk to you much earlier, for obvious reasons." He sounds resentful, "But I was wondering if you're free tonight?"

"Who's phone are you using?" She asks, not recognizing the number. She has Stefan's contact information saved under speed dial.

His gruff voice thickens, "It's a burner phone. I ditched my other one on my way out of town. I never really had many people I planned on keeping in contact with, so it seemed practical at the time." He explains plainly, "I'd really like to see you later. If you're still willing to give me a chance at friendship, to help me with my blood lust, we could start small." She doesn't say anything for a moment and Stefan chuckles nervously, "Penny for your thoughts?"

She tries to keep the smile off her face, "What did you have in mind?"

His voice is light and hopeful teetering on excitement, "Be ready at 8:00."

Power thrums underneath her fingertips. Silver lines her eyes. Her heart pounds like a little drummer boy. Her mind feels rejuvenated. She'd been practicing some spells from the grimoire Klaus had given her. Each new spell felt like a test, a chance at mastery and progression. Something obsolete and other-worldly loomed over her like a blanketed presence throughout her magic session. It was almost eerie how it felt similar, like it was a part of her.

She started getting ready for her time with Stefan. If it isn't apparent, Bonnie is a beautiful girl, naturally. Mocha skin with honey undertones, wide forest green eyes, and full mauve lips. She usually presented herself down, modest, safe. But today, she felt a technicolor of emotion. She thought about what Stefan had said to her on his motorcycle, the memory making her feel an unfamiliar jolt of excitement, and the dusty coil in her stomach curl in anticipation. She eyes the outfits in her closet, peeking at the different clothing choices. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her jade eyes now a striking silver.

Her lips stretch into a smirk, her head clouded and fuzzy. She turned back to the closet and pulled out a pair of high-waist jeans, a form-fitted black top, red strappy heels, and a black leather jacket she'd forgotten about that had been stowed away in the back of her closet. Her eyes sparkled mischievously at the texture and coolness of the leather beneath her touch.

Smoking out her top and bottom lash line with some brown eye shadow, a generous amount of mascara, and some shimmery, clear lip gloss, Bonnie really took a look at herself.

"Someone is learning to appreciate the new attitude that came with her power upgrade." A British accent teases from the shadowed corner of her room.

Bonnie turns to face Klaus with a scowl, "Caroline's not here."

He puts his hand over his heart as if she'd wounded him, "And I really that transparent?" He drops his pouty, raspberry lips open in the dramatic way only Klaus could muster, "And I thought I was being subtle about my particular fancy to your pretty little friend. But that's not why I'm here, little witch. I'm just checking in on my newest insurance policy. Seeing how you're coping with the bodily and spiritual changes." He says almost arrogantly as it was his doing, but the way his eyes fall over her cautiously she can tell there may actually be some genuine concern beneath the surface.

"I don't feel all that different," She lies easily, dropping her eyes from his and facing away from him, "And I just figured it was time I stop hiding myself in oversized shirts and too big pants and start owning my sexuality a bit more." She states, one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her waist. "So if you don't mind, kindly leaving, I have plans."

"With the Salvatore, I have no doubt."

She looks at him warily, "And what about it?"

"I'm just saying that it's rather convenient that he's over the doppelganger. The Petrova bloodline has been known for pitting brothers against each other since the beginning of their ancestry. His indifference towards Elena just seems a little fickle to me, is all."

"If you're not careful Klaus, I might start to think you actually care." Bonnie crosses her arms over her chest, "Stefan and I are just friends," She insists, dodging his quiet appraisal of her. "What he feels for her has nothing to do with me."

His knowing eyes leave an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach, "Just be careful, little witch. Crazy or not, that kind of love never dies."

And then he's gone like he was never there at all.

Bonnie slumps on her bed, feeling a migraine coming on. She mumbles a quick incantation under her breath, hoping the soothing words will stop the dull pain before it progresses any further. But the more she tries not to think about it, the more her head seems to swim with pressure.

An hour or so passes. The pain continues to thrum along her skull.

"Argh," She groans, laying back against her sheets. A burning sting filters through her bloodstream, the silver veins bounding against her skin. Her vision goes in and out of focus before she collapses. She can feel fire licking at her toes and darkness flooding her heart and mind. Something is wrong, very very wrong.

She's on the edge of being under the void of unconsciousness just as she catches the scent of petrichor and alarmed green eyes racing to her side.

"Bonnie!" His voice booms, shaking her shoulders to keep her conscious. When he sees it's inevitable, Stefan cradles her head in his lap, smoothing the wild brown curls out of her face and off her clammy forehead. "Bon, what's happening?" He questions frantically as the smell of blood hits him like a freight train, the scarlet trail leaking from her nose.

He tries to hold his breath, count to ten, recall any of the old tricks Lexie had taught him. But he's floundering, losing the battle, teetering on the precipice of control. He looks at her, so small and fragile in his arms, and he thinks how he never wants to be the cause of anything bad happening to her. Something about that thought sticks to him, the idea of causing her pain physically hurts him. Almost like her hell is his hell.

Bonnie smiles weakly and squeezes his hand forcing him to look at her, "Breathe, Stef. For me. I trust you…" She whispers lowly, her eyes fluttering open and closed, trying to regain some semblance of control over her body.

He looks at her like he is losing her all over again. Like the other night. Before he knew if he'd gotten there in time, if he'd saved her or not.

Stefan lets vulnerable words slip from his mouth, "I'm scared, Bonnie."

She smiles again, very gentle like a dream, "I'm glad it's you here with me."

The light slips away and the world fades around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter but I wanted to get something out there and set up some plots coming up. Thanks for the encouragement :-)


	4. I fell Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: “Daydreaming” by Radiohead

Bonnie materialized into what felt like a hazy rose petal dream.

Everything holds a slight blur, a dream-like quality laced with nostalgia.

Grams sits in a field of wildflowers with her back turned to the young witch, her warm coffee brown skin almost gilded under the sky of watercolors. Bonnie's never seen a place like this before, she's not even sure where exactly here is. Her heart leaps at the sight of seeing Grams again and her body vibrates with happiness. She always thought it would be a long time before she ever got to see her again.

Just as the feeling starts to subside, the older woman turns to her. Eyes gouged, blood running from the torn sockets, her lips a swollen blue like a corpse that's sat out for too long. The smell of decayed flesh and dirt slips past her nose and Bonnie screams.

The peach sky leaks to gray and black. The wildflowers surrounding her grow in reverse, dying around her as well as the trees, sun, and earth. Grams deprecates with it, her once vibrant body withering away, and the silent scream and glint of horror in her eyes sending a hollow chill down Bonnie's spine.

She's stuck in a fishbowl of draining color, losing water fast. There's little she can do to quench the bile rising in her throat and the the urge to run.

The echoed sound of Gram's voice gets caught in the wind.

"Don't trust them, Bonnie."

The scenery morphs into a plain white room with no doors or windows. Bonnie trips over herself in a circle, spanning the empty room with a look of confusion and the remnants of tears coating her lashes.

"Hello, is anyone here?" She questions in a normal voice, however to her surprise, her words echo off the invisible walls. Her voice rings in her ears on replay, the sound making her claw at her head to rid herself of the noise.

"Bonnie…. Bonnie." A voice eerily similar to herself caresses her ear as if someone had whispered it from directly beside her. Like someone is watching her far too closely. The thought makes her tremble in unparalleled fear, the kind of fear that hits you like a bucket of cold ice water, taking you off guard.

The young witch shudders at the sinister feeling that crawls up her arms. The voice had been hers but different somehow. Something felt off, the slight edge that carried the notes of her voice dripping in insidiousness and even a touch of salacious charm.

She turns around and a body length mirror stands stock still on the other side of the room that hadn't been there before. Porcelain in its beauty, it stares at her with a presence that draws her in. Bonnie takes cautious steps towards the mirror and stands timidly in front of her reflection.

What she wasn't prepared for was the figure staring back at her.

"Who are you?" Bonnie's voice trembles in disbelief.

The entity snickers ominously with green eyes that rival her own and a carbon copy of her angular face, "Welcome to Hell, Bon Bon."

 

 

Stefan cradles Bonnie in his arms while he leans against her bed waiting for her to wake up. A rustling of leaves outside draws his attention and the window slips open.

The vampire growls in warning, saliva dripping from his fangs as he stands over Bonnie, hoping it sends a message to the intruder to leave before things took a turn for the worst. Once the angry haze of emotions dims, Stefan recognizes the expensive Calvin Klein cologne as soon as the man in question crosses the threshold.

"Damon," He eyes wearily with a hint of apprehension that elicits a cautious tremor in his fingers. The more aware he is of his brother, he becomes more mindful of Bonnie's blood dried to his hands from when he'd gotten it on him before she passed out. The bronze-haired vampire's face is set in contempt, a grim line seeping into the crevices of his face that resembles stone more than skin. Hard-browed as ever, broody in only the way Stefan could muster, he assesses Damon like a threat, "How did you get in here?"

Damon's half-smile seems to deepen at Stefan's thinly-veiled line of questioning. He takes a patronizing step forward, "Are you asking if Bonnie has invited me in before?" His asks tauntingly, piercing blue eyes cool as ice with a tinge of humor, "Be careful little brother," He tsks with animated glee at Stefan's discomfort, "Your humanity is showing. With you being Klaus' bitch, I'm sure that won't go over well with him." He transfers his gaze to Bonnie, "But maybe that's not what you care about."

Stefan fixes his visage into a mask of cool indifference, "And what would you know about humanity, brother?" He chides darkly with a chuckle, completely bypassing his observation, "Humanity and claiming the title of the town's newly reformed psychopath doesn't cease to exist in the name of Elena Gilbert." He runs his finger down the lapple of Damon's leather jacket mockingly, "Bonnie isn't Elena. She'd never see you as someone worthy of her respect, definitely not someone she'd willingly invite into her home." He remarks sharply. "Plus, Klaus and I are on equal playing field, call it more like allies. I know you don't have many of those because you double cross anyone foolish enough to trust you, but I can handle Klaus."

"You're even dumber than you look or really drunk off blood lust if you even remotely trust Klaus." He looks at Stefan adamantly with a stubborn hint of concern, "You're advocating for Bonnie to do the same with how reckless you're being. You're going to get her hurt right along with you." He seethes vehemently.

The cogs in Stefan's brain begin to turn and he can't help but laugh, "You're not here because of Elena, are you Damon? You're here because of Bonnie. Because you know that you can't belittle her and bully her into helping you anymore."

"Don't psychoanalyze me, brother."

Stefan's smile widens.

"You're needy, Damon. And you ache for validation at every turn, but you're not going to get it from Bonnie and you're not going to get some sick satisfaction from trying to make me tick." Stefan smiles charmingly, his blunt, white teeth barely concealing his razor sharp fangs that dance at the edge of his gums. He breaths cool air into the dark-haired vampire's face with no evidence of remorse in his next words, "You're nothing, brother."

Damon's stony expression experiences a hairline-crack and a flash of hurt dims the amusement that was once there before. Maybe he hasn't considered how much him and Elena's betrayal has altered his brother, or maybe he didn't care enough to stop himself from doing it regardless of the consequences. Maybe his own selfishness had once again caused an irreversible rift between him and Stefan. As the thought hits him, the sadness in the pit of his stomach deepens but he hides it, his thought process occurring in only the matter of seconds, undetectable to the human eye. But Stefan had seen it. And maybe he felt something resembling sorrow for the relationship he was sure wasn't salvageable.

Stefan looks down at the daylight ring on Damon's finger, "You probably won't be needing that anymore."

Damon eyes him, confused.

Stefan shrugs, "You know, with the way you'll sulk and go crawl back up Elena's ass for comfort, I'm sure you'll go deep enough that the sun won't shine there." He smirks crudely, "You should be safe. No sense weighing yourself down with that pesky family heirloom. You and I both know family doesn't mean much to you."

Damon stares back hard.

Bonnie stirs from the spot Stefan had left her to lie down. He turns back to Damon, "Leave before she sees you. I don't want to do this with you in front of her. She deserves better than to be in the middle of our baggage."

Damon recovers from the emotional bruise Stefan left on his dead heart and saves face the best way he can, "Was that us dabbling in our emotional baggage, Stef?" He questions with crossed arms, leaning guarded against the window.

Green eyes meet blue with a heavy look, "You're more transparent than you think, Damon. As much as you like to pride yourself in only giving a damn about Elena, I know that deep down you care about Bonnie." He pauses and pulls at the hair at the nape of his neck, "That's why you're here. To mend fences. Somewhere in you, you can't stand the thought of her hating you." He looks at Damon with the weight of the last 100 years on his shoulders, "But make no mistake, brother, I'm not sharing Bonnie's friendship with you. Not her."

He turns to gaze at a vulnerable Bonnie laid sprawled on the floor with a feeling of surrender making his muscles slacken, his jaw to loosen, and his eyes to soften to a seafoam green, "She's- important to me, Damon. Just leave, please."

Damon senses the sincerity in Stefan's tone and decides to grant him this one mercy, exiting through the window silently, but not before glancing back at Bonnie's heart-shaped face and Stefan's eyes that seem to have shifted in weight. Those eyes no longer hold a candle for Elena, that much was obvious, even if Stefan wasn't quite as aware of the dynamic change as Damon was having just witnessed the cloud that had left this brother's eyes the moment he looked at Bonnie.

"Bonnie will be good for him," he decides. With that last thought and a repertoire of new questions brewing underneath the surface, Damon leaves Stefan to take care of the little witch.

 

 

Worried green eyes pull her out of sleep, "Stefan," She groans through the dull throbbing in her head and the pain in her neck. Flakey, dried blood cakes underneath her fingernails upon inspection before she meets his eyes, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" He questions slowly, trying to draw the information out of her without overwhelming her. He smooths her hair with his rough hands and tucks her head underneath his chin, "You really scared me, Bon." He mumbles in a low whisper.

Bonnie turns in his arms and sits Indian style, knees brushing his in a timid hello. She holds her bottom lip hostage between her teeth, "I don't remember it, Stef. Just the feeling—- it was so cold and dark and eerie." She shudders under the nonexistent chill that licks up her spine, "I felt like I was in Hell. That's all I can locate… the feeling of it all."

Stefan runs his fingers down her temple and circles it around to cradle her neck in his hand and coaxed her to look at him. She obliged naturally with her jade eyes capturing his own through her long, dark lashes.

They're so close their noses could bump again, a hair breath between an almost and an action. She remembers the first time it happened in a situation similar to this, under the tempered off-orange hue of her obsolete bathroom. He seems to be remembering that moment too by the crinkle in the corner of his eyes and the way he smiles lazily at her blush. His smile stretches when he hears her heart skip a beat. Damn him for being so handsome.

She chuckles nervously.

His dimples disarm her.

They're fighting to look anywhere but each other. A losing battle headed down a downward slope. Their eyes meet again and there's a—- click. An interchanging of something. Something subtle, yet pronounced at the same time.

Bonnie's ears burn red hot and Stefan moves impossibly closer, his breath cool and comforting against her cheek.

She hopes he initiates it. Something, anything. She's just not really sure what it she's hoping for.

Stefan slips tantalizing promises into the shell of her ear, "You don't have to be afraid of anything. I'm going to protect you." He says soothingly with a softness that settles like butterflies in her stomach. "That's what friends are for, right?" He smiles lightly but with worry still evident in his eyes as he looks her over and brushes wild curls out of her face.

Bonnie's own smile forms, "You're starting to grow on me, Salvatore."

Stefan's eyes pierce her, "It's a start." He states as a preamble, almost to the point where it seems like he's not going to say anything else. But then he does.

"I am in every way overwhelming and unfathomably undeserving" he looks at her earnestly with a type of intimacy she can't quite put her finger on, "But I can't tell you what you mean to me, how you've already helped me so much." He looks at her heavily, as if the words will glisten in his eyes, "I'll never let you feel overlooked again."

And there she is, stuck. Glued to her spot with her insides in a knot, caught in time between uneven breaths and his beautiful dark green eyes.


End file.
